


I'm Probably Fine, But I Also Might Be Dead

by Severina



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: community: tv_universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 23:05:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns out that Shane knows how to make homemade explosives.  Glenn's not at all surprised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Probably Fine, But I Also Might Be Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Second of 5 unconnected stories written for LJ's tv_universe community, for the challenge "Who Said What Now?" The challenge is to incorporate a quote from one show into a story for another show. The quote I used for this story was spoken by Jess Day from New Girl -- "I'm Probably Fine, But I Also Might Be Dead."
> 
> Post Season One.
> 
> * * *

They come across the National Guard outpost a little after sunrise the third day after hightailing it away from the remains of the CDC. Glenn lets Rick take the lead, creeps carefully after him as they check the perimeter. A few walkers still clad in heavy camouflage gear stumble through the long grass around the buildings, and Glenn resolutely doesn't let himself think about what happened here, about what was surely a last desperate stand that was doomed to failure.

They find the weapons cache in a small building at the rear of the encampment. Electronically coded lock on the door, fine mesh covering the small single window. He steps to the side when Rick and Shane get into a heated debate on how best to breach the building; stands next to Daryl on the periphery of the grounds, tucks his hands into his pockets and tries to keep an eye on both the walkers in the distant field and Shane, leaning into Rick's space and gesturing wildly.

"We need those guns," he mutters when he sees Rick shake his head, stalk away through the grass. The whole situation reminds Glenn eerily of the CDC, but in reverse: instead of pounding on those windows trying to get out, they were stuck on the outside with no way to get in.

"Gonna have to blow the lock," Daryl says from beside him.

Glenn glances up, but Daryl hasn't looked away from his perusal of the yard, his fingers flexing on the strap of his crossbow. If Glenn didn't know better, he'd say that Daryl was nervous. "With what?" Glenn asks. "We blew our load with the grenade back at the CDC."

Daryl just shrugs, and Glenn looks back to the Great Debate in time to see Rick return to Shane's side, their heads bend together. 

It turns out that Shane knows how to make homemade explosives. Glenn's not at all surprised.

* * *

"I'll do it," Daryl says.

Rich shakes his head. "We already discussed this."

"I'm the fastest," Glenn says. "Besides, the explosion's going to draw every geek in a two mile span straight to us. We need you and Rick and T-Dog out here picking them off while me and Shane load up."

"Not to put too fine a point on it," Dale puts in, "but how do you know that you're not going to blow the whole weapons shed to kingdom come, and Glenn here along with it?"

Daryl stalks away when Shane starts lecturing the old man about blast radius and controlled detonation. He's worked on enough road crews, been there when they had to blast out old tree roots and ancient pipes to know that there ain't no such thing as "controlled detonation." Shit goes wrong even when there's experts working with the best equipment, never mind some good ol' boy deputy stringing together bits and pieces. 

He paces to the tree line and back, stops on the edge of the crowd to see Lori gazing over at Shane trustingly, the look on her face mirrored on Glenn's. Damn kid's gonna get himself killed.

Daryl squares his shoulders, steps back up to the group. "Rick," he starts, "I really think I oughta—"

"You're covering the south side," Rick says. "You take out anything that moves in that direction. Got it?"

Daryl takes a breath, curls his fingers into his palms 'cause lashing ain't gonna do any good with somebody like Grimes. He's still resolved to make another case for bein' the one to plant the damn bomb… until he catches the look on Glenn's face as he checks over Shane's little device. Kid looks a little scared and whole lot determined, and if Daryl's being honest with himself, half the reason he likes the damn kid is because he ain't no damsel in distress. Glenn can take care of himself, was making supply runs two times a week back at the camp, usually brought back something a little extra as well. Candy for the kids. One time he saw Glenn slippin' a few fancy hair ties into Sophia's hands, made that little girl smile when her mama did her hair up pretty that night. Glenn even brought him back bowstring wax one time, and he don't even want to think about what the kid had to go through to find that. 

Glenn lifts his head then, catches his eye. And Daryl nods once, slowly, before making his way to the south side of the building.

Yeah, Glenn can take care of himself. Daryl just don't like leaving so much to fate, is all.

* * *

The explosion lifts him off his feet, sends him flying backwards, arms flailing wildly. Glenn has a moment to think _it wasn't supposed to go off for five more seconds, Shane you bastard_ before he's hitting the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of him. There's a whoosh of heat and smoke and part of him knows that the fire is probably raging out of control, that he's entirely too close to the source of the explosion and that there is a shitton of ammunition in that shed that is just primed to go off as soon as the heat hits it, but he can't move. His brain is screaming at him to scuttle back, to get away from the flames, but for the moment all he can do is lay there, his limbs numb and his ears ringing.

He jerks when the crossbow lands inches from his head. Then Daryl's face – sweaty and soot-covered and frantic and still really quite sexy – is filling his field of vision. His lips are moving but it takes a moment for the words to penetrate.

"—all right?"

Glenn shakes his head, groans when the movement makes every muscle in his body ache. "I'm probably fine, but I also might be dead," he manages to choke out.

He watches Daryl's eyes go wide. Then Daryl's hand is fisted in the front of his T-shirt and he's being gruffly tugged into a sitting position, and the kiss is wet and messy and rough and better than anything he ever imagined lying alone in his tent.

The fire is still raging and at any moment bullets are probably going to be ricocheting through the air, not to mention that the walkers are going to be honing in on the noise. But all Glenn can seem to do is grin.

He pushes weakly at Daryl's chest, but lets the other man help him to his feet. He has a vague impression of frantic movement, some people rushing toward the fire and some away from it, but the first figure that he can see clearly through the billowing smoke is Carl. The child is wearing a grin that matches his own.

"I knew it," Carl says.


End file.
